With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls We Slept
by Xyliette
Summary: A/U. Pretentious baby names x 4, bickering about bickering, agreeing to agree and helpful reinforcements in the form of longtime friends who simply know without having to ask. Maddison. Mark/Addison.


A/N: This may technically be crossover material because I tend to bring in other characters without realizing that they are on different shows but it's mainly Mark/Addison. Title belongs to Explosions In The Sky. Enjoy-

**_--  
_**_With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept_**_  
--_**

"I hate fertility treatments." Addison groans falling into a heap on their new suede couch and narrowly missing a pile of dirty laundry that includes too many onesies and receiving blankets to count. Their house is a disaster zone with the destruction spreading further and further out from the incident zone every hour.

"You do not." Mark counters immediately in mid sway as his new daughter watches the room swing from side to side with fascination.

"Yes, I do. I do hate them. I hate them because we can't see our floor anymore and I hate them because I don't know when the last time I took a shower was and-"

"Are you done yet?" Mark asks wearily. He's sick of the whining and he knows exactly when the last time he took a shower was- too long ago. He smells like spit up and plastic diapers and drool but he doesn't seem to care as much as his fiancée.

"No." Addison pouts and slouches a little farther into the cushions careful to keep Hadley safe. At least that's who she thinks she has in her arms. With three girls and one boy who they assumed was also a girl (until he made his presence known) Addison has lost track and is thanking all the gods for ID bracelets because telling her children apart (even with her seemingly flawless system) could be an Olympic sport, in which she would probably place second to the guy who guessed his way through. "Mark, Mark!"

"Hmm?" He hums softly as the infant below him nods off.

"If you're going to fall asleep and drop her...him, which one do you have?"

Mark reaches for the bracelet dangling off the baby's arm and remarks, "Hadley."

"Who do I have then?" Addison slowly twists around the small scrawl, "Chelsea. I thought...where...oh-" Her eyes drift to the small bassinet a few feet away that holds the other two sleeping infants, Peyton and Barrett. "Mark you're falling asleep."

"I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes." He replies without opening the heavy eyelids that have been begging for sleep ever since they got their six week old babies into the house three days ago. He should have known to better and to stock pile the snoozing while he had the chance but he was too excited and worried and anxious to do anything but pace all night and toy with Addison's flaming locks while she dozed. The NICU stay was an expedition in self control for him because not being able to see his kids when he wanted to was nearly his demise. He smiles dazedly at the memory. He never thought he could feel like this about anyone, not even Addison. It's just love, in its purest form and it's not something he's ever encountered before.

Her incensed tone brings him back from fantasy land. "Yeah and when you topple over and kill Peyton with your weight on her small chest-"

"I have Hadley." He corrects without checking again.

"Whatever, look my point is-"

"My point is if you wouldn't have insisted on these stupid pretentious names then maybe we could tell them apart."

"Yeah Mark because names have everything to do with their facial structure and genetic makeup. I'm not having this conversation again." Addison stands carefully, still recovery from what she likes to think of as the worst c-section ever (even though she knows her recovery has gone smoothly), and heads to the kitchen to find another bottle.

So far all they've done is feed, rock, change and feed and it's not that Addison doesn't love her new babies, it's that she needs a break and a nap and a meal that doesn't involve having to eat with one hand because she is holding someone in order to ensure that one doesn't get more attention than the others. It's a dizzying dance and she regrets, now of course, not taking Mark up on his suggestion of getting a few people to help out here and there. But Addison was adamant that they and they alone would raise their children and she's not going to be wrong now.

Her fingertips graze the cool metal of what has become the bottle drawer #2 only to find that they are officially out of clean supplies. "Mark!"

"What!" He yells back in a hushed tone.

"Can you just come in here for crying out loud. How hard-" She stops when she sees him in front of her, his white undershirt still wet by the neck from someone's mouth and his jeans slung low around his hips because they've been worn too many days and are stretched out to the point of falling off. If she had any energy left she'd kiss him but instead she states the obvious, "I asked you to do the dishes."

"No you didn't." He shakes his head and manages to brush back the bulk of her bangs out of her eyes. She's a gorgeous mom. Babies look good on this woman and if they weren't in hell right now he'd suggest doing it again someday but for now they're busy and he'd probably get slapped for thinking aloud.

"Yes I did. I remember specifically-"

"No."

"I thought I did."

"You thought wrong." He adds and pulls the drawer open for himself. "You could try-"

"No." Addison remarks with a deep breath. She tried to keep up with pumping but it turns out she's not meant to feed four kids solo. Her body refuses to play along right now and as it is right now she can't do anything really worthwhile for at least another hour.

"Addie." Mark sighs as the baby in her arms begins to wail. He's getting used to just talking over them but it still scares him sometimes. It's hard to tell what's wrong when they can't speak for themselves.

"They're on a schedule. She's not supposed to be hungry yet. There's a schedule." Addison repeats as her eyes fill with fluid.

"I'm not sure if you noticed but we are outnumbered and they do what they want...I guess they take after their mother."

She ignores the dig for the sake of sanity because the bickering has been out of control lately. "But the book says-"

"Screw the books. She's hungry, go ahead and feed her."

"I was trying! I'm not going to let her starve." Addison points to the drawer, "We're out of nipples and don't you dare open your mouth with some smart ass comment about knowing where some nipples are because I swear Mark if you-"

Mark scratches the back of his head and finds it in himself to grin at her. Now is not the time. At least before when she was crazy and hormonal he had the time to soothe and reassure her. Now she's on her own. "-I wasn't going to."

"Good."

"So nipples," and he can't help but smirk because deep down he really is a twelve year old boy, "Okay. I'll go put this one down and you can either give me that one to try and calm or you can do it while one of us does some dishes and then we can feed this one and then the other three because by the time-"

"I hate that we need strategy to care for our children." Addison lowers her head when she loses control of her watery eyes. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be enjoyable and amazing not stressful and tear inducing.

"I know. Here, hang on." Mark walks away just as Addison's free hand extends outward to grab his shirt for extra support. When he returns she's found a chair and now both she and Chelsea are at their rope ends.

Mark kneels in front of the pair and softly caresses Addison's bare knee. "Gimme." He pulls at his daughter waiting for the redhead to let go willingly. Eventually he breaks away and begins to fill the sink with water while bouncing up and down the way he has found this infant likes. Chelsea bounces, Hadley sways, Barrett likes to be walked around and Peyton is content enough to just rock in the chair that is has now become their most used piece of furniture. He hates their individuality already.

"I can do it." Addison croaks and dries her cheeks.

"I know but I want to."

"All we do is fight." She says softly, sliding in next to him to rinse out the dirty bottles yet again before they can soak in the hot, soapy water.

"We fought before." Mark points out carefully switching shoulders.

"Yeah." Addison falls silent listening to the water run as the one hungry mouth in the room tries to settle itself. For thirty whole seconds they have a noiseless home and then it all starts again. One or two or all three in the other room decide that they need attention too and Addison is rushed away from Mark's side before they can finish any conversation. It's exactly the same as the other three days that they've been stay at home parents and Addison is dreading the day Mark has to go back in two weeks. He'd stay if she asked him to but she doesn't want him in that position. She looks down at her screaming, flailing infants and lets out a long puff of air. Time for damage control.

She takes Hadley and puts her in the swing on her left, setting the level on one, afraid that she can't handle any more and then she lifts Barrett is his blue sleeper out and places him securely on the couch until she can grab Peyton and the three can snuggle because it's their turn; their turn to be held according to the schedule in Addison's head.

By the time her head bobs amidst the myriad of screams Mark has finished cleansing and preparing four bottles with essentially one hand. He begins to set up the battle stations (he thinks it makes the whole thing more manly) as the doorbell rings and the cries pick up intensity and volume.

"Damn." Sam exclaims as Naomi drags him along the entry way. She marched herself right on in after scolding her now second/first husband for causing noise.

"They're hungry." Mark huffs as an apology for the wails.

"They're always hungry." Naomi grins and pats Mark's shoulder. She gave them three days to kill themselves and by the look of Addison's gross tank top and messy hair, death took them many hours ago. "We're here to help and Cooper's on his way."

"Thank you for-"

"Ah, ah, ah." Naomi shushes him, "Go. Get Addison and sleep."

"They need to be fed." He shouts as they shuffle down the hallway and the two short stairs it takes to drop into the family room- a.k.a. baby central.

"We can handle it." Sam states and leads the group by rescuing small infant number one stuck in the swing and hating her (from the pink onesie he deduces) life. They were there for the birth but all the names sound the same to him so he's calling them by color. It's not like they can tell the difference right now anyway.

"But they-"

"Mark. Trust me. We can do this. Now go wake up Addison before she suffocates your kids." Naomi scoots him forward with a push and turns her attention over to the one quiet infant in the room. Clad entirely in yellow, Naomi looks around and decides that Addison has tried to color coordinate her kids for the sake of ease because that's just something her friend would attempt before realizing what a pain it is to try and keep all those clothes clean. Naomi snags a bottle from the end table and makes sure that Mark isn't an idiot who tries to scald his children's throats before going to work. She voted that the quiet one should be rewarded.

"Addie. Wake up."

"Not sleeping."

"Get up."

"You get up." Addison mumbles, her mouth full of the blanket that's haphazardly been living on her shoulder for the last three hours.

"I am up. Naomi is here." Mark smiles as her eyes fly open. "There we go."

"Nae."

"Hey there hot mama."

"Don't tease me...I didn't make fun of you when you practically threw Maya at me that one day." Sam gives Naomi a suspect glare and then shrugs it off and goes back to feeding Pink. He watches Mark secure Purple and Blue before bending down to kiss their foreheads.

"No you didn't and I'm here to help you not tease so go sleep before I make a run for it."

"I don't need sleep." Addison interjects, straightening out her shirt.

"And I don't need cheesecake. Go. Move it."

"You're mean...and bossy." Addison calls over her should as Mark directs her toward the stairs.

"You better believe it." Naomi winks at her friend as they exit and turns her attention back to Yellow.

Someday the poor kids will have real names that mean something.

**_--_**

"We should help them." Addison murmurs halfheartedly as they lay tangled in the sage colored sheets listening to babies cry in the lower level of the house. They haven't seen their bedroom in days and Addison's not even sure who made the bed they are laying in.

"I feel like a bad parent." Mark admits.

"Me too."

"But maybe we could just sleep off the guilt." He slowly turns onto his side and snuggles up to her neck, breathing in the scent of motherhood mixed with traditional Addison. It's a good blend.

"I could just-"

"Sleep."

"No. I'm going to help."

Mark wraps a leg around her thighs when she begins to get up. "We are no use if we can't stay awake."

"They're my children Mark."

"They're mine too and I'm telling you I called in reinforcements cause we need a break and you wouldn't listen to me and then you didn't want to admit you were wrong and needed help."

"Oh." Addison whispers into the warm daylight drifting in through their blinds.

"And I am tired of fighting with you." He unhooks his leg and rolls onto his other side, "So if you wanna go play Supermom be my guest but I'm staying right here. I've hit my brick wall and I'm okay with admitting that I can't do it all and that our kids are driving me nuts already."

She watches the ceiling and counts to ten telling herself that if the cries don't stop then she'll get up. When she reaches one hundred and thirty she nudges Mark so he'll roll over and hold her. "I'm tired of fighting too and I'm sorry for-"

"We're learning, it's okay."

"It's just that I thought we could do it and my parents were never around much and I don't want that for our kids. I don't want to guess what kind of projects they are doing at school or which one hates broccoli. I want to know for a fact and I want to be there for all the milestones. I don't want to miss out-"

"If you spend all of our time having a freak out then neither one of us is going to be able to sleep and you'll end up crying again. You want that?"

"No."

"Ok, agree to agree then."

"Deal." She smiles and finally stops watching the white popcorn texture above her. "Thank you Mark."

"Anytime...Pookie."

**_--_**


End file.
